


Distraction

by oratorio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas is reading too many books.  Taelin Lavellan is feeling overlooked.  She does something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on the Bioware Solas thread made me *cough* look up some porn online by saying that they thought Solas made love like James Deen. So I checked it out. And then I wrote this.
> 
> Unedited at present, characters and world belong to Bioware but all mistakes are my own.

There are so many books.

Taelin has begun to hate the books. Just when she thinks Solas has finished reading, another from his carefully penned bibliography is found and delivered. Recently, it seems as if every time she visits him in his chamber he is sitting in his chair with his nose buried in another dusty old tome about the Fade.

She feels, in all honesty, a little neglected.

“I’d like to know more about your journeys in the Fade,” she tells him one day, desperately trying to get his attention.

“I believe I have told you everything of import, vhenan,” he replies, not looking up from the page. “Perhaps I need to travel further.”

“It is hard to do that while you sit around reading books,” she says, irritation plain in her voice.

He ignores her and, slowly and deliberately, flips to the next page.

 

* * *

 

 

“Seriously, he never even looks at me any more,” she mutters, her face as sour as the plums Cole liked to steal.

“Then the man is crazy,” Dorian is in his usual spot in the library and they are talking quietly so that Solas will not overhear them. As if he would be listening, she thinks. She can already see that he is sitting at his desk below the balcony, a large leather-bound book open in front of him.

“Maybe I’m the crazy one for thinking I am more interesting than the whole of elvhen history,” she sighs, disconsolate.

“Taelin,” Dorian says, “but you are, my darling. You are far more beautiful than anything he might be able to find in the Fade, and you are clever and funny, and if he can’t see that then he does not deserve you.”

“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “Sometimes I wish I was a man, you know.”

“But then who would Cullen ogle in the war room?” Dorian smiles back at her and ruffles her hair. “You are perfect just the way you are, and perhaps a certain elf needs reminding.”

She huffs a bitter laugh. “Just how do I do that?”

Dorian grins wickedly and whispers in her ear.

 

* * *

 

 

Naturally, when she next visits Solas he is flicking through a book, carefully making notes on a sheet of parchment.

“I thought you might like to take a break,” she tells him, pressing against his desk with her hands behind her back and her chest pushed out.

“I am sorry, vhenan. Perhaps later, when I have finished this chapter.”

Taelin exhales loudly and flops down on to the large couch which is pushed up against one of the walls of the room. Solas sleeps here often and the cushions smell of him – a woody, herbal scent that always drives her wild.

No, she decides, she isn’t going to give this up without a fight. She’s never lost a man to an inanimate object before and is not about to start now. She remembers what Dorian had whispered in her ear – it had made her blush at the time, but perhaps it would work.

As quietly as she can, she unclips her tunic and shrugs it from her shoulders, carefully folding it and placing it on the floor beside the couch. Her breastband follows, and she stands up to wriggle out of her breeches and smallclothes.

Naked, she lies back on the sofa and begins to touch herself. It isn’t long before her skin is pebbling in the chill of the room and with the sensation of her fingertip pressing between her thighs. She arches her back and sighs softly, imagining that her hand is that of the elf standing just metres away, leaning over his desk with his back to her.

“Mm, Solas,” she almost purrs as she slides a finger inside, feeling her soft walls clamping down on the intrusion.

She watches the line of his back tense as he tilts his head, listening.

Taelin moans again as her thumb slides against her clit, and this time he turns his head and sees her. The pen in his hand falls to the floor, ink splattering in dark globules across the stone.

She continues to stroke herself, murmuring his name amidst a series of disjointed elven phrases telling him just how much she wants him. His eyes grow wider as he watches her, and his body begins to shake.

She hears him curse softly as he crosses the room in three long strides, sinking down beside her on the sofa and covering her mouth with his.   The kiss is urgent and intense, his tongue immediately pressing for entrance as he gazes into her eyes and pulls her close. He tastes of honey tea, sweet and bitter all at the same time, and she surrenders herself into his arms as he wraps himself around her, his woollen tunic rough against her skin.

The kiss deepens and she feels as if she has no breath left in her lungs as he tangles his hands in her hair, his palms pressing against her cheeks. He never once drops his gaze, his eyes steely and hot with desire.

Her hands slide under his tunic and she feels his muscles tense and bunch as her fingers trace patterns along the smooth planes of his back. She tugs desperately at the cloth, needing to feel his skin against hers. Solas breaks the kiss only long enough to clumsily pull the tunic over his head and throw it to the floor in a crumpled heap. Taelin hums in appreciation as she runs her hands over his body, broader and more toned than any elf she had ever met. He growls into her mouth and presses against her so that her small breasts are crushed against his chest, her nipples aching with the pressure.

His lips burn a path down her neck, tongue tracing a line across her clavicle and down the fine pale skin of her chest. She yelps as he curls one hand around her breast, tugging the swell of flesh between his fingers roughly as he bends his head to her nipple and closes his mouth around it.

Desperately, she reaches for the ties of his breeches but he pulls away, curling his arms under her thighs and flipping her on to her back before lifting her and burying his head between her legs, sealing his mouth over her centre. She bites back a scream as she feels his tongue dipping inside, devouring heras if she was the only thing that sustained him.

Taelin writhes frantically as prickles of pleasure begin to shoot through her nerve endings, almost unbearably delicious, and she has to bite her hand to stop herself shouting his name and attracting the attention of everyone in the library above them. She has always admired Solas’s concentration and focus, and when it is turned upon her as it is now …

Her climax tears through her with the force of a thousand lightning spells, leaving her breathless, her vision going white as her limbs weaken and tremble. She hisses his name through clenched teeth, wanting to laugh and scream at the same time.

Solas doesn’t leave any time for the tension in her body to dissipate. He is already inside her before the final tremors are wrung from her body, already filling her to the hilt and drawing a dazed gasp from her lips. She wraps her thighs around his waist as he shifts his hips, dragging out of her and pushing back in with a puff of soft breath, as if doing this to her took no effort at all. Taelin smiles wildly, her head thrown back as he presses soft kisses against her neck while he moves within her. This is what she wanted, she thinks, all she has ever wanted.

She surrenders herself to him. That is the only way she can describe it in her mind, her whole body becoming soft around him as he guides her into position and directs her in languid movement. He has one hand on her hip and the other resting on her neck, holding her steady as he continues to drive into her. She feels as if he is touching every part of her simultaneously, her skin afire with a fizzing desperation, wanting all of him at once and for this never to stop.

When he does stop, it is sudden and leaves her wailing her fury, no longer caring who can hear and who might spare a curious glance over the balconies above them.

“Ah, ma’arlath,” he smirks before pressing his mouth to hers to silence her. She is as tall as him, yet he turns her as if she weighs nothing at all and pushes her down on the cushions before plunging back inside her, drawing another cry from her lips. His hands cup her breasts as he sets a brutal pace, her body shaking with every thrust. She tries to curl her body over the arm of the sofa, almost pushing against the pleasure that builds up within her, but he twists his fingers in her hair and pulls her back against his chest as he fucks her – for that is the word for what this is. They have made love many times, but never like this. Never like this.

All Taelin can do is to give in to the relentless sensations which are overwhelming her: the feel of him against her skin, the scent of their bodies, the way he is murmuring words of love in a gentle voice as he takes her with such fierce passion.

When he bites gently on the tip of her ear she comes again, more forcefully than she can ever remember. She feels herself clench and ripple around him, hears him groan hoarsely, and then she is shuddering and sobbing her release. He curses and loses his rhythm, stuttering and erratic, before thrusting one final time deep inside her and tipping over into his own peak.

Solas collapses back onto the sofa, dragging her with him so that they both lie staring at the ceiling, the sweat slowly drying on their bodies. Neither of them can speak for some minutes.

Finally she takes a heaving breath and tries to regain her words.

“Did you ever finish that chapter?”

She feels his chest move beneath her as he laughs. “No, vhenan. It appears that you have shown me that sometimes, there are things more important than the Fade.”

Taelin twists in his arms and lays her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat under his smooth, damp skin.  “Nothing is more important to me than you are,” she says, tracing light circles on his stomach.

She feels Solas swallow, notices the slight hesitation that he tries to hide. “You are important to me, too. Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Taelin carefully shuts out the fingers of doubt that remain and forces a smile on to her face. “You know, ma’lath, Dorian is never going to stop talking about the free show.”

“Let him talk,” he says with a smile. “It is you he will be jealous of, after all.”

She snorts a laugh. “With good reason. Unfortunately for him, I have no intention of sharing.”

Solas presses a kiss against her temple. “I am all yours.”

 

 

 


End file.
